


Speaking Bullets

by hyunjinshoneybee



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Romance, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-06-24 11:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19722469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunjinshoneybee/pseuds/hyunjinshoneybee
Summary: Words can hurt just as much as bullets. A life lesson Lee Minho learned young.





	1. Prologue Pt. 1 Rejection

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I am kinda satisfied with my writing? I hope to finish this story TT  
> Enjoy~

Words can hurt just as much as bullets. A life lesson Lee Minho learned young. Having been both shot and rejected within the same year wasn’t fun, but the brown haired male made it through somehow. Being rejected hurts, even though he didn’t actually like the girl. The cruel words she spoke would probably never leave the boy’s ears. Who thought it was a good idea to ask her out? Kim Dahyun, the prettiest, and most unattainable, girl in the entire school. 

His hormones lead him through a dangerous game of truth or dare in his senior year of high school. Although, it was more like dare and dare because who wants to admit to the truth? So of course Minho went to ask her out, the most beautiful specimen of the school, on a flimsy dare.

Her response. Her words! Oh, they’ll never leave his head, echoing through his skull.

“Ah, Minho… I thought you’d be different.” Dahyun said. Minho recalling her cruel words. “In the end you’re just like everyone else? Only hanging around me because you want something from me? That you want my body. I can’t believe this.” She paused to scoff in his direction. “You’re just as disgusting as everyone said you are.” Then she walked away, knocking into Minho and making a face of disgust. “Hyunjin was right about you,” She murmured out one last thing. “What a whore.”

What? What is she talking about? Whore? Minho hasn’t even dated anyone, let alone kissed a human being, how is he being called a whore? Why would Hyunjin say something like that to her, to anyone for that matter?  
Minho’s glasses sat lopsided on his nose as a tear falls from his eye. He wasn’t even called a slut or hoe, not that those are much better, but at least they don’t imply him selling his body.  
He walked home, not even telling his friends he left. The shock was too much, as his eyes started flooding more and more. When he got in his room and threw himself onto his bed, all those tears started flowing out. An unstoppable force. God, it hurt so much, it stabbed at his heart and conscience. He cried and cried until he passed out. He didn’t know where his sleep began or ended, but before he realized it his alarm went off.  
School.

He was only halfway through his senior year. Dragging himself into the bathroom, he turned on the shower faucet. What would happen once he got to school? He knew Dahyun wasn’t very good at keeping quiet. He knew all the stares he’d get once he arrived. 

And then he arrived.

Nothing.

No one was acting out of the norm. This might actually have scared Minho even more. He was walking carefully to class when he saw her talking to someone. He recognized the boy, Hyunjin. Minho started walking slower, more carefully as he tried to get to his class. But Hyunjin had stopped talking and was now staring at Minho, smiling.

Dahyun turned around, confusion on her face and then smiled when she saw Minho. Why? Why were they smiling? They looked so malicious, like they’re faces could split open any minute revealing row upon row of jagged teeth. 

“What’s up faggot?” Someone whispered into his ear. Minho swerved around to see a freshman he vaguely recognized behind him. “Buahhaha, look he responded! He must really be one.” The surprisingly tall freshmen busted out laughing as he talked.

The hall had suddenly gone quiet, as people's attention gathered around the laughter. How did Minho go from being called whore to faggot in one night? What had he possibly done for this to happen? He wasn’t even gay for fucks sake! The brown haired boy turned to glare down Hyunjin. Him. It was him wasn’t it. Minho ignored the stares and whispers around him as he stalked up to Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin.” Minho said sternly while boring into the younger boys eyes.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin replied smugly, no respect in his tone. 

“Why?” He replied trying to keep his cool, he could feel the anxiety twisting in his stomach. He was sure he was starting to shake, but it somehow didn’t reach his voice. 

“Why what? I thought you passed Korean with an A, you should know how to address a subject properly.” Hyunjin was grinning from ear to ear. That malice Minho felt earlier was there again. 

“Why are you spreading rumours about me?” 

“What could you possibly be talking about, Hyung?” Said the younger with a sickeningly sweet sarcastic tone. 

“Whore? Faggot?! Hell, Hyunjin, we haven’t even talked since middle school, why are you doing this??” Minho’s glasses slipped off his face and hit the ground with a crack. Just in time for Minho not to see the shock in Hyunjin’s face about the second word, faggot. 

“I don’t know what you are going on about, but I have never referred to or called you a faggot in my life. The whore thing? I told Dahyun a joke, but she took it too seriously!” The younger raven haired boy was almost full out yelling now. 

“Then who?!” Minho’s eyes started flooding for the second time within 24 hours. Why was he so dumb, so so so dumb. Hyunjin looked grim, and dumbfounded. Silence returned to the hallway. The boy from earlier, started laughing again. He was busted down on the ground laughing to the point of tears.

“I was the one who called you faggot, because that’s what you are, Faggot.” The boy stated. Minho was dumbfounded at the “oh so creative insult”, but it did not beat the point of what the underclassman had just called him. Faggot.

Faggot?

Minho stared at the boy in confusion. He waited and waited for him to stop laughing and then he did. He got up from his knees and looked around the room, flailing his arms in question.

“Absolutely none of you have noticed the way he stares at what’s his name? Jeosing? Josung? Ah, Jisung! That scrawny kid with the crooked teeth.” His eyes wandered the crowd and widened when he spotted who he was looking for. “Him!” he pointed at Jisung. The poor kid looked like a deer in the headlights. 

Minho looked towards the boy with crooked teeth, he never noticed them per se, he always thought his teeth were kind of cute. Then it hit him. Oh shit. Oh shit. Was he really? Did he really stare at Jisung that often? Was it true? He hadn’t meant to, the boy was just so addicting to look at and hear. He had a smile that could lift anyone up from the deepest and darkest pits of despair and his voice was so smooth and calming. No, no it can’t be true. Minho didn’t like him in that way. He couldn’t. Minho. Liked. Girls. Remember Minho? Dahyun, she’s pretty attractive… But Minho doesn’t like her in that way either.

Minho forgot he was surrounded by people, but the snickering of the obnoxious freshman snapped him out of it. A cracking sound rang out as Minho stepped forward. His glasses, he forgot about them and now they were probably crushed past repair. Even though he couldn’t see, he knew the triumphant face the freshman was making. He’d won. 

And that, was the rejection. Not by a girl, or a boy for that matter, but by the whole school. The whole school rejected Lee Minho, the soft fluffy brown haired boy who needed glasses to see clearly, just because he was, in fact, attracted to males. Which this leads to the second point, bullets.


	2. Prologue Pt. 2 Bullets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BAM.  
> That’s more like it, a sharper, cleaner sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short, bare with me please.

Bang goes the fairy tale sound of a gun. A common misconception, because in reality a gun sounds nothing like that. 

BAM.

That’s more like it, a sharper, cleaner sound. It was deafening to Minho, as his knees hit the ground, ears ringing. The ceaseless screech didn’t halt any of the pain he was feeling in his abdomen. 

Minho had just graduated high school a month ago. His life wasn’t going very well after all the shit and rumours he had to go through, so his job options were…  
Limited.

Wow, he really was a whore now. Even as he thought about it, it wasn’t quite right. He doesn’t sell his body per se, more of just selling his time for money. Maybe some heavy making out and hand jobs, but nothing past that. Minho wasn’t that desperate, yet. Was that enough to qualify for such a heavy word? A technicality to figure out another day.

More gun shots sound out around him, his eyes were squeezed shut from the pain and he began to curl into himself. Why did he have to be wearing his best outfit? A benefit from his job is a fashion sense comes along with it. His poor parents bought him this fluffy blue jacket with the purpose of comfort, but reality has made it his nicest most attractive jacket he owns.

There it goes, blue turning to red, it’s ruined. He knew his makeup was probably horrid by now too. Why was this at the top of his list of worries? He was just shot for fucks sake. Oh, shock. He was in shock. That makes sense. He should probably open his eyes to see what’s going on now.

Dark figures mark blurry shapes in his vision, maybe this is where the stereotype for alleys comes from… Shadows hiding behind the bricks and garbage. Stereotypes are not what Minho should be concerned about in this moment either.

His vision clears long enough for him to make out the face of one of the men. Actually, the person he saw seemed fairly young? It’s hard to say for sure though, age is a finicky thing. Maybe he was a vampire, he was certainly pale enough, not to mention the slight blood splatters on his face. Oh wait, that’s Minho’s blood. Shit.

The pale man was kind of cute though… Shut up. Minho is delirious, too much blood loss.   
Hey at least the cute man wasn’t the one who shot him. Infact, he doesn’t even have a gun. How is this going to play out? The pale man was defenseless then, right? Ah, sirens. The police sirens were going off in the distance, maybe an ambulance too, if Minho was lucky. Which given so far, he has rotten luck.

Minho hadn’t realized he’d been staring, as his chocolate eyes met the cute man’s curious eyes. He looked so worried for a second there.

Next thing Minho knew, the man grabbed an old bottle and threw it towards the shooter. Sure, that’ll totally work, and to Minho’s surprise, it did. The bottle shatter upon impact to the shooters face and he hit the ground with a crack. The gun clacking as it slid. 

Strong arms lifted Minho up and the air around him started moving fast. He was being held tightly as the person holding him was running. Minho could hear the police flooding into the scene that was getting farther and farther behind them. He looked up at the pasty skinned male. 

Why? Why were they running, why did the man take Minho? He felt so cold, but the body holding him was so warm. He could feel his consciousness slipping. Then there was nothing.  
Nothing but the thoughts of bullets.


	3. Episode 1 - And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s your name at least?” He asked, awaiting his first proper answer from this man.  
> “Bang Chan… Ehh, just call me Chan. We seem about the same age.” Chan replied.  
> “Ban Chan? Like food??” Minho raised an eyebrow in confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dog kept trying to cuddle while I was writing, I got majorly distracted by the uwus, but here it is!

Minho’s eyes flickered open. The room was so bright it hurt, so he slammed his eyes shut again. Minho didn’t realize someone else was in the room until they started speaking.

“Oh, you’re up?” The pale man questioned him, he had a strange accent. Minho opened his eyes again, this time trying to sit up to see the other person properly. Before he could do so, he was stopped by the pain in his side. Not to mention by the panicking man beside him.

“Nooo! Don’t get up so fast, you’ll undo your stitches…”

“Stitches…?” Minho replied. His eyes were open wide with fear as he remembered what happened to him. “... Oh.” It all came back to him, a flash behind his eyes.

“Oh,” He said again, looking at his savior dead in the eyes. He must have looked pathetic from that angle. Whereas Minho felt like he was looking up at a literal angel. The man’s eyes were narrow and kind of droopy in a cute way. His white blonde hair was gathered in perfect bunches of curls. For fucks sake, Minho! Stop staring. Get to the point with him!

“What happened? What was that?” Question after question popped up in Minho’s head. It was so overwhelming. 

“Please calm down. I can’t explain what happened, and right now your priority should be getting better!” 

He seemed so stressed about the situation that Minho decided to be quiet. But Minho being Minho, the silence didn’t last for very long.

“What’s your name at least?” He asked, awaiting his first proper answer from this man.

“Bang Chan… Ehh, just call me Chan. We seem about the same age.” Chan replied.

“Ban Chan? Like food??” Minho raised an eyebrow in confusion. Chan rolled his eyes.

“No, B-A-N-G Chan. Like my name.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.” Chan looked down, his eyes were glazed over. Minho felt bad now and tried his best to turn the conversation.

“How old are you for real, before I address you wrongly.”

“20.”

“Ah, then that makes you my hyung…”

“Really now? How old are you then?”

“A magician never reveals their secrets.”

“You sure didn’t look like a magician in that get up…” Cahn replied with a smirk, breaking eye contact with Minho.

“Oh shit! I mean, excuse me, Hyung, but where exactly did my clothes go?” Minho asked, after he realized he was, in fact, almost butt naked. If it wasn’t for his underwear, he would be fully exposed.

“AH! I’m not a creep I swear! They were all soaked in blood and I also had to dress your wound…” Chan’s cheeks flushed bright red and his hands went up to hide his face. Minho just chuckled.

“That’s valid, I guess.” Minho was amused. All his shame and embarrassment got thrown in the trash when he started his job. Which speaking of, he never met with his client that night. He probably got fired then, they were very clear in the “no standing up anyone for any reason” rule. 

Chan got up from where he was seated and walked out the room. Minho didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. A few minutes later Chan came back in with a stack of neatly folded clothes. He walked over to Minho and gently set the stack by Minho’s leg.

“Here’s some clean clothes if you want to get dressed… I’m sorry if they’re a bit big, this is all I have.” Chan said shyly.

“Thanks, but you forgot I can’t even sit up properly right now,” Minho sassed as he saw the lightbulb go on in Chan’s head. “You gonna help me get dressed?”

Chan’s face went red again, but this time he didn’t shy away.

“I’ll help you.” He murmured. 

“I can’t hear you, speak up please, Hyung.” Minho pleaded teasingly. 

“I’ll help you!” Chan replied, his accent coming out thickly. Minho started to laugh, but stopped because of the stabbing pain. He winced and grabbed at his side. A deep breath in. A deep breath out. Then the pain was gone again.

“What did I say! Be careful of your stitches,” Chan spoke out with concern. “Please.”

“I will, just help me get changed now.”

“Okay, okay!

After a slow struggle, Chan finally helped Minho’s get his arms in the shirt sleeves. Minho was spacing out while Chan carefully buttoned up the shirt. A lot had happened in the past year. The thing with Dahyun and Hyunjin… The rumours at school… Graduation and getting his risque job. Now to add to his list, he had been shot! Oh, what a year, what a year it had been indeed. How was Minho even alive right now? How-

“You don’t seem phased at all by a complete stranger dressing you? Not to mention being in said strangers house.” Chan said nonchalantly while still working on the buttons.

“You’re hardly a complete stranger now, I got your name and age, a man can do a lot with that these days.” Minho replied, his voice staying even. Monotone. Chan stopped for a second and looked down at him. Their eyes never broke contact for even a second.

“Why don’t you fear me?” He asked seriously.

“I have nothing left to fear in this life, Hyung. I’ve been rejected, broken, and now shot.”

“How is that a good enough reason?” Chan questioned Minho. His eyes that were once hard and serious, softened. He looked back down to continue buttoning the shirt. It was a very long button up, it felt like the buttons would keep going on forever. 

“How is it not a good enough reason? You don’t know how I live my life now.”

“Then why don’t you tell me?” Chan spoke back without pause from his buttoning. His hands were now at the last button, the lowest point they could be on Minho’s abdomen. 

“How about I just show you.” 

Minho wrapped one of his arms around Chan’s waist to pull him gently closer. Chan’s hands were frozen on the last button. The moment he looked up, Minho locked their lips, pulling them closer than they were before. 

“This is how I live my life.” Minho said as he pushed Chan away. Chan didn’t know how to react, what to say, what to do. 

“Thank you for all your help, I’ll leave as soon as possible. You’re probably disgusted by me now.” Minho sounded so cold in that moment. Why. Why the fuck did Minho do that. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Much less acting properly! He’s so dumb, so, so, freaking dumb. 

Chan got up from the side of Minho’s bed, his face was turned so Minho couldn’t see it.

“It’s okay, you’re welcome.” Chan was just barely audible as he answered. He headed to leave the room, but before he did he paused.

“It’s okay.” He said again. But this time it seemed to hold a different meaning. Then the door closed behind him and Minho was left alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart started beating so hard while writing this??? What is wrong with me sjegnsidjg


	4. Episode 2 - Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fuck me,” Minho cursed under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that I am the literal worst at updating my fics, and also how horrible my writing is...

Why? Why was he this way? Why did Minho have to act like that? Minho questioned himself as he resisted rolling around in bed. Chan would actually kill him if he undid his stitches. Minho sighed and tried to sit himself up. The stabbing pain in his side increased and he quickly tried to settle down.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Why did this have to happen?” Why the fuck was he shot. He continued to grumble in his head. His mind began to drift off to his parents, the jacket he was wearing got soiled in his own blood. His eyes wandered to the window, revealing the faint outline of a full moon. The white curtains blocking most of the view. 

He missed them. His mom, his dad, even his cats, but it was too late for all that. His parents had already cast him out after everything that happened at school. Hearing that there son was a so called “faggot”. They were disgusted with him, they felt betrayed. But for what reason? Was it so wrong for him to like another man? No. No it wasn’t wrong. That’s the one good thing that came from Minho’s line of work. 

From his clients alone, he learned that it was okay to like men instead of women. That there were hundreds, maybe even thousands of other men out there sharing his struggle. After all, that’s why they came to him in the first place.In the beginning maybe it was just to confirm their fears, but after? After was a whole nother story. They just craved the touch, the love, even if it was false, of another man. Someone who accepted them. 

Minho’s thoughts snapped back to reality when he heard a crash come from outside the room’s door. His heart started pounding, and his body went rigid. Every cell in him went on high alert. He cautiously called out for Chan. There was no answer. He called out again, this time hearing another crash, closer to the door this time. Slight relief flooded through him as he heard Chan curse on the other side. 

“Chan?” He called out one more time. “Are you okay?” The door burst open causing Minho to jump and make pain flare through his side. He felt like his heart was in his throat. 

“Yeah! I’m fine.” Chan at last replied to Minho’s calls. “Also, what happened to me being your Hyung?” He shut the door behind him as he sauntered over to the side of the bed. Suspicious, what was he trying to keep Minho from seeing? What was all that noise?

“Hyung… Not important right now. What the FUCK was all that noise?” Minho attempted to play off how anxious he was, but no matter how hard he tried his voice gave off his previous fear. Chan’s face dropped its playful feign when he noticed the state Minho was in. 

“I was cleaning up some stuff, and I uh…” The guilty man trailed off as he spoke in shame. “Accidentally knocked over and, uh, dropped some stuff.” Minho can’t believe what he was witnessing. Chan’s face and ears were bright red as he awkwardly tucked a curl behind his ear. How did he manage to make that much noise from breaking something? Wait, how much did he even break? 

“Chan, how many fucking things could you have possibly broken to make that much fucking noise?” Minho gave no fucks to his language, the man had just gotten the life scared out of him for the second time that week. Chan looked at the ground as he stepped back to open the door. What looked to be two piles of broken dishes laid shattered across the floor of the kitchen. How the fuck had he managed. Minho had only known this man for a day and already felt way too invested in his life.

He sighed and laid back down, finally able to relax again. How could someone like Chan be caught up in that shooting? Who even was this man in front of him? A strange gap seemed to appear in his mind between the two of them. It became apparent that Chan was a stranger. He knew nothing about this man. 

“Who are you?” Minho muttered under his breath, not meaning to be heard. Chan looked surprised at the question, as if only just now Minho had asked it. Then his face saddened as he replied.

“Not someone you should have met, sorry for scaring you.” And he walked away, closing the door slowly behind him. Glancing back with a look of sorrow that only seemed to reach his eyes. Chan said he would explain later, but Minho wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear it now. 

He turned his back to the window to try and sleep off the thoughts in his head. Everything was so confusing. He hoped that his head would be a little clearer in the morning, if only it was that easy. If only his problems didn’t follow him into his dreams. 

Minho started walking down the halls of his old school. The ruggedy lockers lining it seemed to go on forever. Why was he here? All the bad memories opened up with the lockers. The clacking one, by one, by one, until that was the only thing he could hear anymore. He fell to his knees to cover his ears as the opened lockers whispered horrible things to him. 

“You’re not worth it.”

“What kind of son are you?”

“No one wants someone like you.”

Several colourful slurs came at him from all around, it was too much for him. He brought his head down to his knees and his eyes watered up as he started screaming, trying to drown out the words. Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhy… His sentences became a broken record, until he looked up. Surrounding him was a hoard of people he felt he knew, but their faces were all a blur. 

Minho was being stared down at from every angle. The figures started walking closer and closer. They closed in on him, placing their arms and hands all around him, trapping him. The worst part was the cruel words that started coming from them instead of the lockers. Minho was drowning.

“PLEASE,” He croaked. “STOP.” 

Suddenly, the door to the bedroom burst open and Chan came in. Minho’s eyes were filled and each sob sent needles through his side, but he couldn’t stop. Chan looked at him with worry. Clear confusion crossed his face when the room only had Minho in it. Being the only currently sane person in the room, Chan searched for answers.

“Minho? Minho, what’s wrong?” Chan asked, getting more worried with each word. He reached out to try and stop Minho from moving. Red welled up on Minho’s shirt as he quivered. Fuck. He opened his wound. Chan had no time to figure out what was wrong anymore. He had to act, and the faster he did so the better. 

“Minho!” Chan yelled as he pushed down his patient’s shoulders. “You need to stop now before you hurt yourself further!” Minho looked Chan in the eyes and a look of realization washed over him. It was just a nightmare. No one besides the man who saved his life was there. He began to calm down a bit, but the pain was now evident.

“Fuck me,” Minho cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry…” He turned his face away from Chan to hide his pain and his humility. Chan sighed. He decided not to question the boy right then. Silently, he got to work on Minho’s wound, yet again.

He finished up and left the room quietly. Minho let out a small thank you right as the door clicked shut. Somehow, Chan heard it. Why did he decide to take him in and save him himself instead of just dropping him off at a hospital? The hooker who got caught in Chan’s bullshit. This boy who seemed a little more than just another person who sold themselves to get by. 

Chan looked around his apartment. The style of every shelf, cabinet, wall, table, everything, was modern, crisp, clean. Not at all what you would expect from a gang affiliate. He looked out the wide window, at the cityscape, the sun was coming up. He hadn’t slept a wink.

“Guess I should get at least an hour in,” He told himself as he hopped onto his living room couch, and fell into a pitch dark sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I just started writing, only occasionally checking over for plot problems and I kinda just finished it so I am yeeting it here
> 
> SORRY AAAAAA


End file.
